Thomas and Friends - Railway Series Adaptations
by DDandT6
Summary: This is where my adaptations of the Railway Series will go, for the most part. TODAY: Two new engines from Scotland arrive to help instead of one, and one of them is so scared of being sent away he misplaces Annie and Clarabel in "The Missing Coaches!"
1. Old Stuck-Up

**OLD STUCK-UP**

* * *

Spencer felt humiliated - he had run out of water on the hill and had to be rescued by, of all engines, his inferior cousin. The engines all laughed when they saw him, and Spencer was looking forward to going back to the mainland after the welcome party was over. However, the Duke and Duchess had other ideas.

"Your engine was splendid," the Duchess said to the Fat Controller, "We would've been stranded without him."

"And he knows when to fill up on water," the Duke added briskly, glaring at Spencer. Spencer looked away, ashamed.

"If the rest of your engines are as magnificent as that one," the Duchess continued, "We'd like to formally meet the rest of them and extend our visit." The Fat Controller was flattered.

"Yes, of course. I assure you, all of my engines are really useful. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like." Spencer did his best not to groan - that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he, of course, had no say in the matter.

"Excellent. We'd like to start with a tour of the railway, but we'd prefer to use that lovely Gordon instead, if you don't mind," the Duke said, "Show us how you Sudrians do things." The Fat Controller grinned.

"Indeed! I'll go and make the arrangements right away!" Spencer was speechless.

* * *

Gordon soon came to collect the Duke and Duchess in a special private coach owned by the railway. He smirked at Spencer.

"Well, fastest engine in the world, eh? Fastest engine to run out of water, more like!" Gordon laughed at his joke and puffed out of the station, carrying his very important passengers. Spencer scowled.

"Just _how_ could this day get any worse?" he grumbled. A few minutes later, he heard a diesel's horn and groaned.

"A diesel? Ugh, this railway's a pigsty!" A large, green diesel engine backed down onto Spencer, looking slightly offended.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked. Spencer snorted.

"You heard me. This dratted island's all wrong. No one treats me with the respect I deserve! I'm _Spencer!_" The diesel chuckled.

"Never heard of you." Spencer's eye twitched.

"And I've never heard of _you_, mister…" Before Spencer could think of some sort of insult, the diesel interrupted.

"The name's BoCo, actually. The Fat Controller sent me to take you to the sheds." Spencer's eyes widened.

"T-The sheds?"

"Why yes, of course. Surely, such a _celebrity_ like yourself would want a rest after your long journey." Spencer stammered in horror, but he could do nothing as BoCo started pulling him along. Spencer looked down at his buffers; he wasn't looking forward to seeing the engines.

* * *

BoCo rolled up to the water tower beside Tidmouth Sheds, a red-in-the-face Spencer being towed behind him. The engines snickered.

"Fill up all you need, Spencer!" jeered James, "You may never know when you tank might start leaking again!"

"He'll run out before making it into the shed!" Henry grinned. Spencer gritted his teeth, having to bear more and more teasing as his water tank slowly filled up. At last, BoCo was uncoupled and rolled onto the turntable.

"Come on, Spencer," he called back, "A nice, dry shed should cheer you up." Spencer glared.

"What would cheer me up is me being back home, away from all you peasants!" The engines were stunned, but Spencer continued.

"Why does your controller insist on keeping you horrid lot around? You're filthy, both your paintwork and your manners!"

"We're not filthy!" Percy protested, although his dusty paint said otherwise. Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Exactly. Interrupting a high-class engine like me simply isn't proper. You _public_ engines wouldn't understand, but we private engines have standards. Back home, your lot are treated properly. I go somewhere, I'm greeted with a hero's welcome, and they always make a road for me, no matter what," Spencer smirked. BoCo was furious.

"Stay outside then if you're so proud about it," he snapped, "I'm going to join my friends." BoCo reversed from the turntable into a berth. Spencer scoffed but said nothing.

"High-class, my tender," James fumed, as quietly as he could manage so Spencer wouldn't hear, "I hope it's cold out tonight so hail can come and fall on that dratted boiler of his. Old Stuck-Up…"

* * *

The engines found it hard to sleep that night, as their visitor outside frequently could be heard making some sort of gripe, particularly when Henry left the shed and wheeshed steam at him while going to fetch the Flying Kipper. At last, morning came, and the engines still in the shed were being prepared for work. Spencer yawned and opened a sleepy eye.

"Have fun with your menial jobs," he sneered, "I'll be out and about with the Duke and Duchess, hopefully going back home." The engines were too tired to argue and resorted to simply ignoring him. At last, the engines one by one left the shed to collect their trains, all giving a nasty glare to Spencer as they passed, James the worst of all. Spencer growled.

"They treat me so poorly!" he complained, despite no one being around anymore to hear him, "How could the Duke and Duchess possibly be interested in… _them_?" Spencer nearly gagged at the thought. He yawned and closed his eyes, smiling at the silence.

"Mmm, that's better," he sighed, "How can an engine rest with all that talking?"

* * *

Spencer continued to sleep for most of the day, unaware that in the yard, the Duke and Duchess were being introduced to all the engines. The Fat Controller gestured to BoCo.

"This is BoCo. He's versatile, a true mixed-traffic engine." BoCo smiled modestly at the praise, ignoring James' jealous glare.

"Your engines are wonderful, Topham! We simply must come again," the Duchess smiled. The Duke checked his watch.

"Goodness, it's almost six o' clock! We have to get Spencer prepared to take us home!" The Duke, now in a panic, ran to fetch Spencer's crew. The Duchess followed calmly, waving goodbye to the engines.

"Well, they were nice, at least," Percy spoke up meekly. James was still cross.

"They better leave Old Stuck-Up locked in his shed next time," he grumbled.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the sheds, Spencer was still dozing, unaware of his crew running up to him.

"Wake up, Spencer!" cried his driver, "The Duke wants us home by midnight!" Spencer jumped but quickly regained his composure.

"Of course, sir," he said with a great air of self-importance, "Get me polished so I can look my best, though that shouldn't be too hard given all those other _engines_." The driver scanned the sheds; in one of the berths was a crate filled with polishing rags and a bucket of water.

"Well, would you look at that? They've left all this here for us. How nice of them," the driver remarked. Spencer scoffed.

"How nice indeed…" he muttered., "Let's get this over and done with before they return. If we hurry, no one will know I'd been." Spencer started to move forward towards the shed. He rumbled over the turntable and tried to stop just in front of the berth, but he couldn't!

"What's going on?" he demanded, "Stop me, will you?"

"I'm trying!" cried the driver hastily. Little did Spencer and his driver know that James had just been polished that morning, at his own request of course, and the job had left water splattered all over the rails. Spencer slipped on the wet rails, the back wall of the shed approaching nearer and nearer.

"Horrors!" he wailed. Spencer shut his eyes and, with a despairing whoop of horror, he crashed through the back wall of the shed. The dust settled, revealing scattered bricks on the gravel lot behind the shed and a very embarrassed Spencer. Then, Spencer heard footsteps and looked back in horror to find the Fat Controller, the Duke and the Duchess walking up to the shed. The Duke looked around.

"Ugh, I swear you can't leave Spencer alone for five minutes. Where is he?"

"Why is there a draft?" the Duchess asked suddenly. The Fat Controller and the Duke shared a look before gasping at the scene of the accident. The Duke promptly put his face in his hands.

* * *

The Fat Controller quickly called BoCo to the site of the crash to pull Spencer back onto the rails. BoCo couldn't help but be amused by what he saw.

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Spencer wisely remained silent. A strong chain was attached between BoCo and Spencer's tender and BoCo pulled with all his might. It wasn't long before BoCo managed to bring Spencer back to safety. Spencer looked down, avoiding the withering glare of the Duke.

"How long is it going to take to repair him? We're supposed to leave soon!" the Duke demanded.

"He's not too badly damaged, it seems," the Fat Controller observed, "but he will need a night at our Steamworks for us to be sure." Noticing the Duke start to pace back and forth, he quickly continued.

"But, while he's being mended, I can have Gordon take you back home, and I'm sure we could arrange for an engine from the Other Railway to take Spencer back when he's ready." The Duke sighed.

"Thank you, Topham. It would be nice to have a _reliable_ engine at the helm for a change." He glared at Spencer. He didn't say anything, but Spencer knew he was in for an earful. The Duchess gave a glance to the Fat Controller, who sheepishly nodded and walked backward to outside the shed as the Duke started vehemently scolding Spencer.

* * *

Once the Duke had finally ended his tirade, BoCo pulled a very ashamed Spencer away to be mended. As the sun started setting, the engines started returning to the sheds.

"Why is there a hole in _my berth?!_" James exclaimed furiously. The engines started laughing, much to James' fury. BoCo rolled up with some workmen to start patching the hole, trying not to chuckle himself.

"Spencer crashed straight through," he explained, "He hasn't been lucky, has he?" Duck chuckled.

"He must've slipped on all that water you left behind, James! Seems you both have 'leaky tanks', eh?" James growled.

"Shut up! It's not funny; he ruined my favorite berth!"

"Just be glad that the dreadful draft is the worst thing about this," Duck retorted, "Besides, it got rid of Spencer at least."

"Quite right! Old Stuck-Up became 'unstuck', did he?" Henry chortled, "I can only imagine what the Duke must've said to him when he found out!" BoCo smiled wryly.

"I couldn't hear all he said, but I didn't think it sounded very polite."

* * *

**Author's Note:** What's this? Well, it's the start of a series of Railway Series adaptations, of course! I was initially going to lump these in with the other rewrites of alread existing episodes, but that didn't feel right to me so I made another "story" for them instead to keep things more organized. A friend suggested I adapt some of Christopher Awdry's stories, and I figured it made sense to do that since I don't think many of them were... the best. The first one is _Old Stuck-Up_, because while researching I found out that the story in the book was based off an event that happened to an A4 so I connected the dots and wrote this. I know doing this means the original diesel isn't canon to my universe, but I'm not exactly super upset about that. Taking place shortly after _Gordon & Spencer_, this was a lot of fun as I dove more into how Spencer felt towards the engines when he first came to Sodor, along with some characters that didn't get a lot of attention in Season 7, particularly BoCo (who I'm having a lot more fun writing than I ever thought I would). Come back tomorrow for the next adaptation, _Fire-Engine_!


	2. Fire-Engine

**FIRE-ENGINE**

* * *

One night, as the stars twinkled above, the engines were resting in the shed. Gordon was being turned on the turntable, looking particularly grumpy. The other engines shared a look.

"Who wants to ask?" Henry muttered. James immediately looked away, so Donald sighed and spoke up.

"Something tae matter, Gordon?" Gordon snorted as he reversed into his berth.

"I saw that dratted Flying Scotsman at Vicarstown today. Said he 'came to check up on me.' As if I need his supervision! Bah." Donald was about to answer when Gordon continued.

"He thinks he's so important? Let me tell you something; when I was built, I was green, just like _him!_" Gordon groaned at the memory.

"It was… was… disgraceful! I much prefer my blue now, perfectly suitable for an important and _independent _engine like me. Not to mention we don't _look _the same anymore…" he added bitterly.

"Aye, back in Scotland, the engines on Dougie and I's line were blue," Donald cut in, hoping to change the subject before Gordon got even crosser, "but nae sae dark as we are, Dougie and I weren't. We chose tae be black, of course. It made us different ye see, and still does here. Makes us stand out a wee bit from the crowd." Gordon grunted.

"Don't let one green engine ruin the colour for you, Gordon," Henry chimed in, "I love being green. It's the colour of trees and nature." This earned an eye roll from James, which unfortunately for him, Henry noticed.

"Just be glad none of us are red like James," Henry went on with a smirk, "Can you imagine? I'd hate being red myself. People would think I was a fire engine." Gordon and Donald chuckled, but James was very annoyed.

"People probably mistake you for one already, what with that piercing whistle you have; it sounds almost like a siren," he retorted, "Besides, at least people can see me coming. I don't disappear into the background like some engines I could mention. If it wasn't for all that noise you make, you'd need a yellow and black front like Mavis!" Henry spluttered indignantly.

"Why you-" But Henry's protest was drowned in the laughter of the other engines. James smirked triumphantly. Henry scowled and reversed into his berth, the doors slamming shut in front of him with a bang. Even inside the shed, Henry could hear the others laughing and joking, and became more and more determined to pay James out.

* * *

The next morning, the engines went away to work, but it seemed Gordon's bad temper had moved over to Henry, who was still fuming over the previous night.

"Siren indeed…" he hissed as he rumbled into the big station, "My whistle isn't a siren. It's a whistle, and a very good one at that." As if to prove his point, he whistled loudly.

"Do you mind keeping the noise down?" Murdoch asked as politely as he could from the other platform, "Some of us like to hear ourselves think every now and then." Murdoch hadn't meant any harm, but Henry only became crosser still.

"Piercing, _piercing! _Pah!" He continued grumbling to himself as Percy brought Henry's coaches to the platform. The passengers got in, the guard blew the whistle and Henry set off, still muttering under his breath. Percy and Murdoch exchanged a worried look.

* * *

Henry picked up speed as he and the coaches rattled along the main line. Countryside whizzed by, the wind blew past Henry's smokebox and birds flew above in the air, but none if it cheered him up. When Henry stopped at the other end of the line, he came to an abrupt stop, bumping the coaches hard.

"You shouldn't bump your coaches so much, Henry," said Arthur worriedly as he shunted some fish vans to the other platform, "You might damage something, and Sir Topham Hatt wouldn't like that." Henry rolled his eyes.

"It's 'the Fat Controller', Arthur."

"Maybe that's what _you_ call him, but I always found it a bit rude myself-"

"More importantly, this is _my _train, not yours, so keep your bunker out of it." Henry, still sizzling crossly, was uncoupled from the coaches and stormed away to be turned around, leaving a concerned Arthur behind.

* * *

When Henry returned, he was still in a bad mood and again bumped the coaches when he backed down onto them for the return journey.

"Goodness, Henry, be a bit more careful," the driver remarked. Henry snorted.

"What is this, 'Annoy Henry Day'?" he huffed, but he said it to himself. He waited impatiently for the guard's whistle, and as soon as it blew, he started with a jolt. A small rattle came from Henry's footplate as he started to move, but only Henry noticed it.

"Probably nothing," he muttered and dropped it from his mind.

* * *

Soon, the train was running well, and Henry was entering the forest. The sight of all the animals scurrying about along with the tall trees standing strong a small distance from the line made Henry smile, and at last he began to feel better. Suddenly, there was a loud crack beneath Henry's cab. The driver gasped.

"Look out!" she shouted and pulled the fireman into the cab, just in time. The two watched in horror as a widening gap opened between Henry and his tender. Henry could immediately feel the difference.

"What's this?" he spluttered as he drew to a halt, "I'm not a tank engine!"

"You don't seem to understand that yourself, seeing as you've been such a crosspatch you've broken your tender coupling," the driver retorted. Henry wisely decided not to reply. Luckily, the guard had managed to stop Henry's tender and the coaches some way behind.

"Everything seems secure," the driver sighed after a quick inspection of the train, "You put out Henry's fire, I'll go tell the signalman what's happened." The fireman nodded and the two set to work. To Henry, help couldn't come soon enough; gusts of wind bucketed his bare cab, making him feel most uncomfortable. Not long after the driver had left, Henry sniffed the air and his eyes widened.

"Do you smell… smoke?"

"Move, Henry, _move!_" shouted the fireman frantically. Henry jumped and rolled forward suddenly.

"W-What's going on?" Henry stammered.

"Your fire's set the sleepers alight! You stay here, I'm going to phone the fire brigade!" Henry looked back as his fireman hopped down from the can and ran to find a telephone.

"That's all I _can _do!" Henry called back, but the fireman had already left. Henry could do nothing but wait.

* * *

Soon, the fire brigade arrived and made quick work of the fire. Just as the last bit of flame was put out, Henry heard a familiar whistle and groaned. James backed down onto the coaches, a wide grin on his face.

"Surrounded by your kin, eh, Henry? Good for you, at least you know where you belong now!" Henry looked away grumpily.

"But fire engines are supposed to put out fires, Henry," James continued, trying not to laugh, "not start them!" Henry glared, but it had little effect as James whistled and rolled away, chortling to himself. Henry sighed.

"Can you couple my tender back up please? I feel silly looking like this." The driver shook her head.

"Not a chance, your old coupling's been snapped in half. We'll have to wait for a replacement from the Steamworks." Henry's face paled.

"B-But that could take hours! I'll have to stay here all day!"

"Can't help that," the driver replied, "Maybe this'll teach you a thing or two about controlling your temper." Henry looked down at his buffers glumly.

* * *

Sure enough, Henry had to stay where he was all afternoon. The engines had to be redirected around him, but they didn't mind; the sight of Henry separated from his tender with a very visible burn in between more than made up for it.

"You should take firelighter's job!" chuckled Gordon as he rushed past with the express, "You seem even better than he is!" Henry gritted his teeth as Gordon disappeared around a bend, still laughing. All day, Henry was subject to the engines passing by and making what he thought were very silly remarks. Perhaps worse was when passengers pointed at him from within the coaches. At last, as the sun was starting to set, Henry heard a familiar whistle.

"Hello, Henry!" called Edward as he rolled up alongside, "The Fat Controller sent me to give you this, fresh from the works!" In a truck behind Edward was…

"My tender coupling!" Henry gasped happily, "Oh, Edward, thank you, thank you! You're my savior!" Edward raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as Henry's crew immediately set to work on fastening the new coupling. After what seemed like an eternity, the driver stood up.

"All secure! Come along, old boy, let's get you home." Henry whistled with joy as he started rolling away, leaving Edward to only chuckle.

* * *

It was nighttime before Henry finally made it back to Tidmouth. He rolled onto the turntable, trying to avoid the gaze of the others. They were silent, though clearly trying to hold back snickers. Henry solemnly backed into his berth, not daring to say a word. At last, conversation in the shed started up, but they were careful what they talked about that night. No one mentioned colours, sirens or fire engines.

* * *

**Author's** **Note:** Here we are! The original was my second favorite from the book, but I still feel it didn't contain quite enough character for it, which I hopefully made up for here. There's something delightful about writing these characters, may as well make the most of it. You may be surprised to read that Murdoch and Arthur had brief appearances; I figured it was fair game since I'm making this book take place in Season 7, plus it's a good chance for me to practice writing them before I officially have them "return", sort of speak. If you didn't notice upon first reading, I made Henry's driver female. Why? Because I can, but also there aren't that many female workers on Sodor and I may as well change that, so expect random drivers, firewomen and other such workers sprinkled around when I hopefully don't forget to do it. Next up, and the last of _James and the Diesel Engines_, _Deep Freeze_! But what about _Crossed Lines_? Well, an original story I'm working on at the moment contains a lot of the same elements so I won't bother adapting it. Anyway, thank you for reading and I'll see you next time!


	3. Deep Freeze

**DEEP FREEZE**

* * *

Winter had come to the Island of Sodor, and although there was little snow, the countryside was still frozen hard, trees were covered in white frost, and icicles hung from bridges and water towers. However, the steam engines weren't deterred, as they had fireboxes and boilers to keep themselves warm.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" chanted Gordon as he rumbled through the countryside with the express. A goods train could be seen ahead on the other line, pitifully trying to keep going. At the helm of the train was a diesel, looking very sorry for themselves. Gordon had hardly even noticed them before racing past, and almost in an instant was gone. The diesel shivered as another freezing gust of wind blew against them.

"I-I think I may have to stop here, driver. I-I can't go on, I feel frozen solid!"

"Just a little more, Derek!" replied the driver enthusiastically, "The next station's not far now, then you can thaw out your engine in the shed." Derek smiled weakly, but wasn't so sure he would even get there. Sure enough, after only going a little ways further, there was a loud sputtering from Derek's engine.

"Oh dear…" Derek sighed, but wasn't surprised as he came to a halt out on the open line. Derek winced as the cold wind blew again.

"I'm sorry," he said sadly as his driver gave him a quick inspection, "I really did my best."

"I know you did, it's not your fault," his driver soothed, "It's this dratted icy weather, that's all." He went off to get help, leaving Derek to bear the wind alone.

* * *

At Wellsworth, James was grumpily shunting trucks in the yard.

"All the work that I _could _be doing, but I'm sitting here shunting. This is Edward's job, not mine," he muttered, but was interrupted as the stationmaster came running up to him.

"Leave those trucks there, James! There's a goods train stranded down the line, and you need to bring it here!" James spluttered.

"Me? Why me? Why can't Edward go? Or Donald? Or-"

"There's no time to argue, James," the stationmaster cut in, "We need the line cleared as soon as possible, and you're the closest engine available." James growled in annoyance but reluctantly rolled out of the yard.

"Pah! To think I had nothing better to do," he grumbled as he set off to the rescue.

* * *

Meanwhile, Derek was getting colder and colder. Frost covered his green paint and his teeth chattered from the freezing wind.

"H-Help will come soon," he reassured himself, "B-BoCo will come and get me, I hope. Poor BoCo… I should really thank him for…" He trailed off as a whistle blew.

"Huh? That's not BoCo," Derek mused, surprised. Indeed, it wasn't, as instead James could be seen rolling towards him in the distance, looking very cross.

"What do I look like to them, a maintenance diesel?" James fumed loudly. Derek winced as James looked up and realized just who he was rescuing.

"Oh, I should've known it," he groaned, "I could be doing anything of importance, but no. I have to help a feeble _diesel _who can never pull his own weight." Despite James' harsh words, Derek still smiled gratefully as James buffered up to him.

"I pull all the time, really, if my engine lets me," he replied earnestly, "Thank you for coming, James. I would've been left here to freeze if it weren't for you." James snorted and started pulling Derek and his train along.

* * *

James had to work very hard to pull both Derek and all his trucks, but he eventually made it to Wellsworth, his cheeks looking as red as his paint.

"This is ridiculous," he complained, "I could've taken _three _trains of my own in the time it took to haul you and yours!" Derek smiled.

"At least it kept you warm." Derek was merely being optimistic, but James thought he was being cheeky. He scowled and was about to retort when the stationmaster came out of his office, looking relieved.

"Thank goodness you're back, James. BoCo has been delayed, and the Fat Controller wants you to collect his coaches at the big station." James scoffed.

"Another diesel going wrong. I swear, if I have to pick up the slack for one more of them today…" James whistled and puffed importantly away. Derek looked down at his buffers.

"Oh… James isn't too happy with me, is he?"

* * *

James stormed into the big station to collect his coaches, bumping into them crossly. Henry raised an eyebrow from the other platform.

"What's wrong with you today, James?"

"First, I get demoted to _shunting_ all morning, and now I have to take care of two diesels' trains just because they're too unreliable to do it themselves. To think they come into our yard and tell us how they're 'the future'. Pah!" Henry looked around slightly nervously to see if any diesel nearby had heard James' rant.

"You're lucky BoCo isn't around to hear you," he said cautiously at last, "Besides, diesels are alright, really. Just mixed-traffic engines like you and me."

"Mixed-_up_ engines, you mean," James retorted, "Especially that Derek. Why the Fat Controller even bothered to keep him after his trial at the Clay Pits is beyond me. Those 'repairs' he'd gotten have done him no good, and it's up to us supposed 'out-of-date' engines to do _his _work."

"You know he tries his best, James. His system is faulty, he can't help it. Anyway, Derek's never said one bad thing to any of us, let alone you."

"If he was so nice, he would actually do his own jobs," James snapped. He whistled and departed with his train, leaving Henry to roll his eyes.

* * *

The weather grew even colder as James snorted up the line, the coaches rattling behind. James rolled into Wellsworth, where in the nearby shed, BoCo was keeping Derek company as he warmed up.

"Thank you for taking care of my passengers, James," BoCo called, "My engine locked up when I tried to leave the-"

"You diesels and your engines," James interrupted crossly, "We keep things simple. We _are _the engine." BoCo raised an eyebrow at Derek as James glared at his driver.

"Speaking of, _this _engine needs water." The driver sighed.

"Very well, James. May as well top you up while we've a working tower. Goodness knows when we'll get some more." James couldn't help but shiver as the icy water cascaded into his tender. Derek watched worriedly as the water started overflowing onto James' tender.

"Er, James? I think you have too much wat-"

"What would you know about water?" James snapped, "I have exactly the right amount of water I need-"

"Derek's right, James," the driver cut in sheepishly, hastily turning the tap off, "Your tank's filled to the brim."

"Fine by me," said James grumpily, "The more, the merrier. Now watch, you two, and you may just learn how a _real _engine does it." He whistled and pulled out of the station. BoCo scoffed.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the shed," he remarked. Derek, however, was worried.

* * *

James was very confident as he rushed along the line, the daunting scene of Gordon's Hill soon appearing. He sped up, determined to get a good run at the hill. James was making good progress, reaching almost halfway up the hill when he began to feel thirsty.

"I need a drink!" James called back. The driver was puzzled, but nonetheless turned on the injector.

"That should do it. Keep going, James, we're almost there!" But James only began to slow down, the heavy weight of the coaches dragging behind him.

"I can't! I need water!"

"That's impossible! We just got water at the station! Fireman, try yours." The fireman nodded and turned on his duplicate injector, but it did little as James was soon only rolling at a crawl.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you!" James pleaded, a mounting pain beginning to appear in his boiler, "I won't ask for an extra polish tonight, I promise! Just please, give me water!"

"It's not me that's doing it, your injector's failed!" the driver gasped, "What a place for it to fail too. We'll have to go back to Wellsworth and get another engine to help us. We certainly can't go on ourselves without water." James normally wouldn't have been thrilled to see Derek or BoCo again, but he was in such pain that he didn't care. He rolled back down the hill and into the station. BoCo couldn't help but chuckle.

"Back so soon? I must say, not too impressive for a _real _engine." James growled, but remained silent. His driver quickly inspected him. "Your filler cap's frozen solid, James. Air can't get into the tank, so the injectors can't work. You'll be alright when the ice melts."

"When it melts?" James spluttered, "That won't happen for ages! Where's Edward?"

"He's on the branch line," the driver replied briskly, "Not a chance he can come and help us." James groaned.

"If you don't mind, perhaps I could help?" James, his driver and BoCo all looked over in surprise at Derek, who was smiling hopefully.

"Are you sure you can handle it, Derek?" BoCo asked curiously.

"Well, er… no, but I want to try." BoCo grinned.

"Good. Show ol' bossy buffers over there what a _real _engine can do, eh?" he winked. James was horrified as Derek started rolling out of the shed.

"Rescued by a diesel!" he complained, "It's degrading! I won't go!" BoCo looked furious, but luckily for James, Derek spoke first.

"Oh, don't say that, James! You don't want to stay out in the cold, believe me; I know from experience." James harrumphed as Derek backed down onto him, honking his horn.

"Are you ready?" he called back. James grunted.

"I'll take that a yes. Let's go!" Derek's engine roared into life as the diesel surged forwards, dragging a surprised James and the coaches along with him.

"You can do it, Derek!" called BoCo encouragingly from the shed. Derek honked back as the train rolled steadily but surely into the distance.

* * *

Derek and James soon approached the hill again. Derek couldn't help but feel nervous, but nonetheless charged at the hill.

"I must do it, I must do it," he chanted to himself. The weight of both James and the full coaches dragged on his rear coupling, and his engine began to feel hot, but he struggled on. James gaped as Derek, engine roaring, made his way up the hill.

"I don't believe it…" James muttered in astonishment. Derek grinned as, at last, they reached the top.

"I've done it, I've done it!" he cried gleefully as the cavalcade raced down the other side. James was too stunned to say anything and Derek was too worn out from getting over the hill, so the two were silent for a while as they continued on their journey. Finally, as the train pulled into Maron, Derek spoke up.

"James…?" James gave a bitter grunt in response. Derek winced but went on.

"I was never sure how to ask this, but… why do you dislike diesels so much?"

"Is that even a question? The first diesel _I've _ever met manipulated me and my friends into turning against each other, and it seems every other day there's some new 'visitor' from the mainland boasting about how we're all to be scrapped and they'll take over. It's disgusting." Derek frowned.

"Oh dear… But those diesels are wrong, James. Steam and diesel can work together! A bit like right now, come to think of it." James raised an eyebrow.

"How do you mean?" Derek smiled.

"Well, when my engine froze, you came to help me! You didn't have to do that; you could've simply left me there until someone else bumped into me, but you didn't." James grimaced but said nothing.

"And when your filler cap froze, I wanted to help you in return." Derek paused. "Not every diesel is horrid. I'm sorry you've met some bad apples, but don't let them spoil the whole bunch. No diesel on this island has intent on replacing anyone." He smiled wryly.

"I doubt I'd be much good as a 'replacement' anyway." James was taken aback and for the rest of the journey, remained respectfully silent. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Over the next few days, the island began to thaw, and the engines soon found working much easier again. James rolled into the big station with some coaches, surprised to see both Derek and BoCo.

"Oh, hello, James!" Derek smiled, but BoCo didn't look too happy to see him. James looked away at first but eventually sighed.

"...hello." An awkward silence ensued, James feeling rather uncomfortable under BoCo's glare.

"Er… listen, you two, I'm… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted the way I did, and you're both some of the finest engines I've ever met, diesel or otherwise. So..." James wasn't sure what to say next, but luckily he didn't have to say anything. The guard blew the whistle and James had to leave. Looking very relieved, James hurried away, leaving BoCo very stunned.

"What on earth was that?" Derek grinned.

"Some engines change for the better," he said simply. BoCo raised an eyebrow.

"Did you…?" Derek chuckled and rolled away. BoCo could only stare in wonder.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And here we are, the final adaptation of _James and the Diesel Engines_! Since _Crossed Lines _got cut, that meant I had to put all of James' prejudice towards diesels into this story, but I don't think it was too bloated. A certain scene between James and Henry reappears in this from that same story, which I think helps to tie it together. Perhaps more importantly, the Works Diesel from the book is gone, replaced by Derek. I figured at the time of Season 7, Derek made by far the most sense as taking over the role, and I think it worked really well. This is my first time writing Derek under my "reboot", and it was really fun. Optimistic, always tries to be himself, and never gives up, among other things. Making him distinct from the nicer diesels of the modern series was a fun task and one I hope to continue to do so in future. BoCo was another fun character, he has no right being as great to write as he is. Lastly not probably not least, James himself. In the book, the conversation between him and the diesel didn't even really exist. I know Railway Series stories are short, and maybe it could've worked if tinkered with, but I prefer this where we actually get to see what James and Derek say to each other. Writing it and the ending was a bit challenging though as I didn't want James to turn on a dime nor for the ending to be too cheesy, and I think I hopefully succeeded on both of those counts. This'll be the last of the adaptations for now, I'll start them up again soon, though, don't worry. In the meantime, thank you for reading these and I hoped you liked them!


	4. Stop Thief!

**STOP THIEF!**

* * *

Daisy the Diesel Railcar greatly enjoys her journeys up and down the branch line. There are many sights to see, including farms, an airfield, and a watermill. However, Daisy's favorite is the Elsbridge Cricket Field. Whenever the signal is red, Daisy loves nothing more than to relax and watch the game. One day, she pulled up to the signal as usual, which glowed a deep red. Daisy smiled and braked to a halt, looking down at Caroline the Car.

"I'm not late, am I?"

"Oh no, the game's just starting!" Caroline called up.

"Ah, perfectionner. I should hate to miss the beginning; silly Thomas delayed me at the top station, you see."

"Did he really? That Percy came by earlier while we were setting up the field and said he 'couldn't understand the fuss.' Says we're just 'knocking a ball around.' I say, Daisy, you're fine and dandy, but some of those friends of yours certainly aren't." Daisy murmured sympathetically.

"They're nice sometimes, but they don't understand like we do." Just then, the signal dropped, and Daisy had to leave. She honked her horn and started rolling away.

"Revoir, Caroline! Let me know who wins!" she called. Caroline blinked as Daisy disappeared into the distance.

"Revoir…?"

* * *

Daisy's talk with Caroline had greatly cheered her up, and she was in high spirits by the time she got to the junction. Upon stopping at the platform, her passengers disembarked and Daisy closed her eyes.

"Might as well get some sun…" she murmured. However, she hadn't dozed for very long before the stationmaster burst out of his office. Daisy opened a sleepy eye.

"What's going on?" she mumbled as the stationmaster frantically ran over to her.

"You mean you haven't heard?"

"Haven't heard what?" Daisy yawned.

"One of the cricketers from the Elsbridge cricket club just had all their trophies stolen!" the stationmaster explained hastily, "They even had the nerve to take them away in the cricketer's own car!" Daisy's eyes popped open; she wasn't sleepy anymore.

"Caroline!" she gasped, "Is she alright?"

"Haven't a clue. That car could be anywhere on the island by now." Daisy looked so furious that the stationmaster quietly stepped back from her.

"How _dare_ they!" she fumed, "Whoever this scoundrel is, thinking they can hijack my friend, they'll have _me_ to answer to!" Daisy blared her horn and quickly roared out of the station.

* * *

Daisy's fury quickly turned into worry as she made her way back down the branch line. She looked all around, but there wasn't any sign of Caroline anywhere.

"Oh, where could she be?" Daisy wailed as she came to a halt at a red signal.

"Where could who be?" Daisy looked over to see Terence ploughing his field beside the line. Daisy sighed mournfully.

"_Caroline_, Terence. She got hijacked, and I want to look for her, but I don't even know where to start!" Terence thought for a moment.

"Hijacked, you say…? Hmm… Caroline's an old car, those thieves can't push her too hard or she'll break down. I say she's still nearby, you just need to keep your eyes peeled." Terence realized what he just said and chuckled nervously.

"If you find her, don't… tell her I said that." But Daisy was more focused on something else.

"Keep my eyes peeled… Right. Thank you, Terence!" The signal dropped and Daisy rolled away. Terence sighed with relief as he started ploughing the field again.

* * *

As Daisy made her way through the valley, she mulled over what Terence had said. Instead of looking sporadically in all directions, she focused specifically on the road that ran beside the railway. Suddenly, up ahead, she could faintly see a flash of red between a line of bushes. She suddenly surged forward, but her driver put on the brakes.

"Steady, Daisy, steady! What's gotten into you?" Daisy glared.

"Do you not understand? That's Caroline up ahead!"

"There are plenty of other red things on the road beside Caroline," the driver replied gravely, "Could even just be Bertie for all we know."

"Can't we just look?" Daisy pleaded, "What if it is her? She needs our help!" The driver sighed and released the brake lever, allowing Daisy to speed up unimpeded. She quickly drew level to the red object, which was still obscured by the bushes. At last, there was a gap in the shrubbery, and Daisy gasped in delight.

"Caroline!" Caroline jumped, startled, but her face lit up when she saw Daisy.

"Daisy! Oh, am I glad to see you!"

"So am I! They haven't hurt you, have they?"

"No, they only want the trophies," Caroline said breathlessly, "but my circuits will fry long before I ever get to wherever this ruffian wants to go!" Daisy narrowed her eyes at the thief inside Caroline's cab, who waved and tried to speed Caroline up.

"Oh, no you don't…" Daisy muttered and sped up herself, quickly catching up. However, the thief only sped Caroline up even more in retaliation.

"Stop doing that!" Caroline coughed, "I'll overheat!" Suddenly, the thief turned Caroline onto a road that led away from the railway. Daisy groaned bitterly.

"Bother! How are we going to stop her now?" Just then, she thought of an idea.

"That's it!"

"What's it?" inquired her driver.

"That road heads for Ffarquhar, just where we're going, and there's a level crossing at the station! If we switch onto that line, we can block them!" The driver frowned.

"But Daisy, the passengers expect to stop at the platform, not the crossing."

"I'm sure they'll understand, this is an emergency! Please!" The driver was uncertain, but eventually nodded.

"Alright, Daisy, if you think it'll work." Daisy grinned and surged ahead, determined to beat Caroline to Ffarquhar.

* * *

Caroline, meanwhile, was being driven to her limit, quite literally.

"Stop going so fast, you hooligan!" Caroline cried as her aching tyres pounded the road, "If you crash, you'll break all those trophies you want so much!" The thief just grunted and swerved onto another road, almost colliding with Bertie. The bus screeched to a halt as Caroline roared by; the bus stared in bewilderment as she disappeared.

"...was that Caroline?"

* * *

Ffarquhar became nearer and nearer, and Daisy was running out of breath.

"I don't understand why Thomas likes racing Bertie so much," she grumbled, "My swerves will never be the same after this!" She quickly pushed this thought out of her mind when a familiar horn cut her off.

"There she is!" she cried, and sure enough, a red-in-the-face Caroline turned onto the road that ran beside the line.

"She's catching up!" called the driver. Daisy looked ahead at the signalbox.

"We'll see about that." She loudly blared her horn.

"_Points!_" she yelled at the signalbox. The signalman inside, startled switched the lever. Daisy's brakes came on with a groan as the rails curved under her wheels.

"Are you sure this is safe, Daisy? If you she doesn't stop, she'll crash right into you!" the driver said worriedly.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take! Ugh, and everyone says _I'm_ the dramatic one!" However, instead of slowing down, Caroline seemed to be approaching the crossing even faster.

"What are you doing?" Caroline called to the thief, "We'll crash into her!"

"Not if your rusted engine is actually worth anything," the thief barked back. Daisy's driver jumped clear as Daisy skidded to a stop on the crossing. Both diesel and car shut their eyes, preparing for the impact. However, it didn't come. Daisy opened an eye, only to see Caroline, stopped only an inch from her and covered in a cloud of smoke.

"Caroline! Are you alright?" Caroline coughed as the smoke billowed from her engine.

"I've been better; for once, I'm glad I've broken down." Just then, the thief opened Caroline's door and fell out, spluttering furiously.

"I don't think _he's_ doing so well, though," Caroline remarked. The thief tried standing up to run away when another horn sounded. Daisy and Caroline shared a look as Terence trundled up behind Caroline, a police car following behind. The thief gulped as a policeman stepped out of the car.

"Hello, hello, hello. What's all this then?"

* * *

It wasn't long before the thief was taken away, and Daisy's passengers were making their way over to the station.

"What a thrill that was!" one remarked as the driver helped them down. However, Daisy had damaged her brakes in stopping so quickly, and so had to stay where she was. She didn't mind a bit, though.

"I don't know how to thank you!" Caroline gushed, "If it weren't for you, who knows where that thief would have taken me?"

"It was nothing, really," Daisy said modestly.

"On the contrary, I'd say it was quite something indeed, Daisy!" Everyone looked to see the Fat Controller walking up to them.

"I was in the station and saw everything. I'm proud of you, Daisy; you took the initiative and stopped a crime in its tracks. I'm sure the cricketer will be pleased too."

"Indeed he will, sir," the driver called, lifting Caroline's boot, "It seems all of the cricketing cups are undamaged."

"Splendid! Carry on, then; I'll send an engine to take you to the works as soon as possible, Daisy." With that, the Fat Controller walked away.

"Well, who would've thought? I hope the cricketer's doing alright; he must be very worried about you," Daisy mused, "I must admit, though, I'm curious how the thief managed to take you away in plain sight." Caroline chuckled.

"He gets a bit too involved in his games, and they can be so long that he's often forgotten I'm even there. That being said, I don't think he'll forget me anymore!" Daisy and Caroline laughed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, this was unexpected, but here we are. I got the idea in my head of adapting this, and figured it would be more interesting with another engine instead of Thomas, so why not someone both neglected in the Railway Series and the later classic series? As for Caroline, this marks her introduction into my canon, so be prepared to see her in future. There's not much else to say, so look out for the Halloween story later this month hopefully.


	5. Triple Header

**TRIPLE HEADER**

* * *

Engines bustled about the yard, collecting their trains and putting trucks and coaches in their proper places. One engine was idle, however; Gordon, who merely sat on a siding, looking sorry for himself.

"Oh, the shame of it…" he groaned mournfully, "No one understands just how taxing it is to have to pull such an important train day in and day out."

"Oh? I always thought you felt the express was a train of prestige!" Thomas grinned cheekily as he drew alongside. Gordon spluttered.

"It is, little Thomas, and that's the point. Not just anyone can pull it, and so I have a responsibility to keep up. It's quite gruelling, but someone has to do it."

"You have too much hot air in your smokebox," Thomas retorted, "The rest of us are just as capable as you!" To Thomas' dismay, Gordon burst out laughing.

"You? You? I'd say don't make me laugh, but you already did! I can see Henry or James, but you wouldn't make it one yard out of the station before bursting your boiler!" the big engine chortled. Thomas let off steam loudly.

"Rubbish! Us tank engines never run out of breath!" With that, Thomas fumed away, leaving Gordon to chuckle and close his eyes.

* * *

Thomas fussed into the station, where Annie and Clarabel were already waiting at the platform. The coaches shared a glance.

"Someone's in a mood…" Annie murmured. Thomas rolled his eyes.

"Blame that Gordon. He thinks he's the 'pride of the line', even saying I couldn't pull the express!" Thomas looked back as he heard quiet snickering from behind him.

"What?"

"You… You can't pull the express, Thomas! It's too heavy for you!" Clarabel said, trying not to giggle. Thomas glared.

"That's not true! I-" Thomas got cut off by a whistle. He looked ahead, surprised to see Edward pulling into the station, towing a mournful Gordon behind. The coaches gasped.

"Edward? What's wrong with Gordon?" Annie cried.

"He needs new tubes, or so the inspector says," Edward explained as he passed by, "I'm taking him to the Steamworks." Thomas gasped with joy the moment Gordon and Edward had left.

"Gordon won't be here! With him being mended, maybe-"

"No," retorted the coaches immediately. Thomas frowned.

"Why not?"

"Henry and James are still active, Thomas; the Fat Controller is sure to pick one of them," Clarabel explained.

* * *

Clarabel was right; the Fat Controller put Henry on the express, and Thomas watched enviously as Henry glided in and out of the junction.

"It's not fair!" Thomas lamented, "Why should only big engines get to pull the express?"

"Perhaps because they're simply better at the job," Duck replied dully as he shunted a line of trucks into the station.

"Don't put yourself down like that, Duck. We may be little, but we can do big things too!"

"I'm not putting myself down, I'm being realistic. There is a difference. We're not capable of taking the express, and that's that." Duck whistled and reversed back to the yard, leaving Thomas to pout.

* * *

A few days later, the Fat Controller was enjoying his morning tea in his office when the stationmaster burst through the door.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we're in quite the predicament. Henry has just fallen ill." The Fat Controller nearly spit out his tea.

"W-What?"

"His fire won't start, and the express is due out in an hour. What are we going to do?" The Fat Controller thought for a moment.

"Edward and James are too busy to assist… That means all we have are the tank engines." The stationmaster stared.

"Sir, with all due respect, do you really think this could work?"

"We don't have a choice; the express mustn't be cancelled. Besides, all three of them together should be able to manage at least as far as Crovan's Gate. If we can repair Gordon in time, we can have him wait there and swap him in." The Fat Controller stood up and straightened his top hat.

"Right. If you excuse me, I have some arrangements to make." The stationmaster stepped aside as the Fat Controller hastily made his way out the door.

* * *

"...and that is why I need the three of you to take the express today. I know it's on short notice, but-"

"Of course we'll do it!" Thomas cut in excitedly. Duck and Percy stared at Thomas, but the Fat Controller was relieved.

"Well then! Thank you, Thomas. You're getting us out of quite the jam." The Fat Controller chuckled and walked away.

"This is it! This is our chance!" Thomas grinned, "Now we'll show them, eh?" Before either Duck or Percy could reply, the blue engine whistled and hurried to the station. The green engines exchanged a look.

"I have a bad feeling about this," muttered Duck.

* * *

By the time Duck and Percy reversed into the station, Thomas was already coupled up, fit to burst with excitement. Duck backed down onto Thomas, much less enthusiastic.

"I'm not one to disagree with the Fat Controller, but this is ridiculous," he huffed, "On the Great Western-"

"We're not on the Great Western, remember?" interjected Thomas cheekily, "Just enjoy yourself! Think of how splendid we'll look when we get to the works station!"

"If we ever get there…" grunted Duck cynically. In front, Percy trembled nervously.

"B-But I've never pulled an express before!" he protested, "I don't know what I should do!"

"Never mind, Percy, it'll be easy! Just follow my example!" Thomas called. Duck rolled his eyes, but Percy managed to calm down just as the guard blew the whistle. Thomas smirked.

"And we're off!" Thomas heaved forward, only to bump into Duck.

"Ouch!" he cried before scowling at Duck's bunker.

"Pull harder, you two! We have a timetable to keep to!" he fussed importantly. Duck sighed dully.

* * *

The train was slow to start, but after the three engines entered the countryside, they had built up a steady pace. This wasn't enough for Thomas, however.

"Why are we so slow?" he grumbled, "We'll hardly look splendid if we're no faster than Trevor."

"I'm sorry, Thomas, I can't go any faster!" Percy panted in front, "These coaches are so heavy!"

"If we're going to do this, we need to conserve our energy," added Duck firmly, "Otherwise, we'll burn ourselves out before we even get to the hill." Thomas subsided into grumbling as the train continued up the line. It wasn't long before they approached Crosby, and Percy began to slow down.

"Percy? What's wrong?" Duck asked worriedly. Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't we meant to stop here?"

"Percy, expresses don't stop at every station like local trains do. We have to keep moving all the way to the works station." Percy's face paled.

"T-The works station?"

"It's not that far, Percy, we can make it!" called Thomas confidently. Percy chuckled nervously; Duck respectfully said nothing.

* * *

As they approached Wellsworth station, Duck noticed Edward's absence in the yard.

"Looks as though Edward's not here. We'll have to take on the hill by yourselves."

"W-What?! We can't do that! I-I'm almost out of water!" Percy wailed. Duck and Thomas shared a glance and slowed the train down to a halt beside the water tower. Percy smiled sheepishly.

"Oh."

"If you two fill up your tanks, we might just be able to take this train all the way," remarked Duck. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"You're not filling up?"

"I don't need to. My tanks have lasted me longer than this on the Great Western, and they'll be just the same here. Besides, it conserves water," Duck replied matter-of-factly. Thomas snorted and fell silent. After Thomas and Percy filled their tanks to the brim, the three engines blew their whistles loud and long as they began charging towards the hill. Percy gulped as it wasn't long before the intimidating hill came into view.

"Come on, let's get a good run at it! If we stick here, Gordon will never let us hear the end of it!" Thomas encouraged. He sped up, as did Duck, but as the three engines made their way up the slope, Percy only seemed to be slowing down. Just as they were near the top, there was a loud yelp and Percy's weight fell onto Duck.

"Percy!" gasped Duck, "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I-I think I've burst a valve!"

"What a place to do it," grunted Thomas, not noticing the glare Duck gave him, "Never mind! We'll just have to go the rest of the way by ourselves, Duck!" Duck spluttered.

"Just the two of us? What about Percy?"

"He gets a free ride to the Steamworks! Think positively for once, Duck, won't you?" Duck rolled his eyes as he and Thomas struggled up the hill, twin columns of steam shooting high into the air. Percy gasped as the top of the hill came closer and closer.

"You're almost there! Just a little further!" With one final puff, the three engines began surging down the other side, Thomas laughing triumphantly.

"We did it!" he cheered, "It'll be smooth sailing now!" Duck looked about to say something but decided against it as the two continued onward.

* * *

As the train pressed on along the main line, Thomas and Duck had to muster all of their strength to not only pull the heavy coaches but also push Percy. Feeling bad he couldn't help, Percy tried his best to give moral support.

"We're almost there now!" he cried excitedly, "I can see the Steamworks!" Duck and Thomas were both red in the face and wheezing by now. Percy's smile faltered as he heard a quiet "Uh oh." from behind.

"Duck? What's wrong?"

"...I think I may be running out of water."

"What?! You said you had enough!" Thomas fumed, noticeably short of breath.

"I thought I did!" Duck replied defensively.

"You can have my water if you'd like, Duck! I still have almost a full tank!" Percy suggested brightly.

"Percy, we don't have a pipe, and goodness knows if we stop now to fetch one, we'll never get these heavy coaches moving again."

"Oh…" The three engines gradually slowed down until they came to a complete standstill beside the Steamworks.

"Well, you might say this has been a bit of a 'self-fulfilling prophecy', eh?" Duck chuckled nervously. Thomas gritted his teeth.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" He gave a great heave, but nothing happened.

"Thomas, please, you're embarrassing all of us," Duck hissed.

"No, I can do it!" Thomas insisted. His wheels spun and spun, but neither the coaches behind or Duck and Percy in front moved an inch. Thomas immediately stopped when a familiar whistle echoed from inside the Steamworks. The three tank engines watched as rolling out into the sunshine was Gordon, freshly repaired. Gordon braked, raising an eyebrow at them.

* * *

"Oh, thank you, Gordon! I don't know how you pull this every day; it's impossible!" gushed Percy as Gordon backed down onto the cavalcade. Gordon smirked.

"It's not if you have the strength that I do, Percy, but it can still take quite a lot out of you." Thomas grunted bitterly as Gordon whistled and started pulling the train along with ease.

"We could've done it…" Thomas muttered.

"Well, we almost did," Duck mused, "which is more than what I thought we could do."

"You did well to get so far," Gordon remarked in front, "You ought to be proud of yourselves. That being said, next time, leave it to the experts, eh?"

"Oh, you've got it!" said Percy wearily. Thomas, surprised, became lost in thought as Gordon came to a gentle stop at the platform. He was uncoupled to turn around, then returned a few minutes later.

"Right. Let's get you to the Steamworks, Percy, then you to a water tower, Duck." Percy and Duck were uncoupled from the train and Gordon started pushing them away. As he passed Thomas, he slowed down and smiled. He took three deep breaths and winked. Gordon didn't need to say anything; Thomas knew exactly what he meant.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I didn't quite expect to do another one of these so soon, but the idea popped into my head a couple weeks ago and so I decided to pursue it. Unlike the _James and the Diesel Engines _adaptations which take place in Season 7, and _Stop Thief! _which can either be slid into Season 4, Season 5 or even Season 6, this takes place in Season 2. Why? Primarily due to it being much less contrived if its place in the timeline is much earlier. With only the eight engines at the time, a situation like this is much more likely. It was really fun writing this, though; Thomas/Duck is a really fun dynamic that I've gotten to appreciate because of this, and this was also a good chance to figure those two out individually as well. I'm still not sure how consistent my Thomas really is, but hopefully this is a step in the right direction. As for the next adaptation, who knows? There probably actually won't be one for a while, though, so look out for more rewrites and originals!


	6. The Missing Coaches

**THE MISSING COACHES**

* * *

The Fat Controller sat in his office, reading that day's newspaper. He had a lot on his mind; more goods and passengers were flooding to his railway, and his engines were having trouble keeping up, particularly those on the main line. The Fat Controller had made arrangements to bring in a new goods engine from Scotland to ease the workload, and they were due to arrive at any moment. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," called the Fat Controller. An inspector walked in, looking notably uneasy.

"Your new engines have arrived, sir." The Fat Controller put down the newspaper, staring at the inspector.

"...engines, inspector?"

"Yes, sir. There are two of them."

"But I only ordered one. How could there be two?"

"Some shipping error, no doubt, sir. I'd send the other one away, but, er… there's no way to tell which is which. They say they've 'lost their numbers.'" The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"So I see." He set his paper on his desk and stood up, grabbing his hat.

"We'll see about that." Before the inspector could reply, the Fat Controller marched out the door.

* * *

Two identical black tender engines stood in Knapford Sheds, each boring a cheerful grin as the Fat Controller walked up to them.

"Good morning, sir!" one of them greeted. The Fat Controller wasn't impressed.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding here. I asked your controller for one engine. Why are there two of you?"

"Two engines are always better than one, sir!" the other replied jovially. The Fat Controller grunted; it was clear he wasn't getting anywhere.

"I hear you've…" He cleared his throat sternly.

"...lost your numbers."

"Aye, we were stripped of them on tae way, sir, We had tae come up with names for ourselves. I'm Donald."

"And I'm Douglas," cut in the other engine, a bit too hastily. The Fat Controller looked from one to the other.

"One of you is playing truant," he replied at last, "Whoever it is, when I find them out, I shall be sending them home. You ought to understand that you can't simply gallivant off your railway whenever you wish." Donald and Douglas didn't reply as the Fat Controller turned to the inspector.

"Inspector, I want numbers on these two at once, and then they shall start work. I have… arrangements to make." The twins shared a glance as the Fat Controller walked away.

* * *

It wasn't long before painters came and painted bright, yellow numbers on Donald and Douglas' tenders - Donald nine and Douglas ten. After they were done, the twins were left alone in the shed for the paint to dry.

"Are ye sure this'll work, Donnie? He didnae seem tae buy it," Douglas whispered worriedly.

"We've come too far now," Donald murmured grimly, "We just have tae stick tae our story, prove ourselves, and we'll win over his heart before ye know it."

"Why dinnae we simply tell him-"

"Ye dinnae just trust a controller like that, Dougie. Ye'd know that better than anyone." Douglas looked at his buffers as the inspector walked up to them. He inspected their tenders before walking back out of the shed.

"I see you two are ready. Now, we'll have you both start in the yard. Here is our resident station pilot, Duck." The twins looked to see a green Pannier tank engine roll up to the shed.

"Come on, I have to show you the yard." Duck whistled and began reversing away. Donald and Douglas grinned before following.

* * *

"I hope you don't mind shunting, because there's a lot of it to be done today," Duck remarked as he and the twins rolled into the yard.

"Aye, nae bother. It's all just work after all," Douglas smiled. Duck raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"Well, that's quite a surprise. All our big engines grumble at just the thought of it."

"Good thing we're medium," Donald smirked, "Let's show them how it's done, eh?" Duck grinned as the twins whistled and immediately set to work; he found himself liking them already.

James sat at the station platform, looking around in annoyance.

"Where is that fuddy-duddy? He's certainly doing things the wrong way now…" Suddenly, James felt a violent bump from behind. He looked back in surprise to see his train, and behind it a tender engine he had never seen before shooting a cheeky smirk at him.

"W-Who are you?" James stammered.

"Donald, laddie, and I believe _ye're_ the fuddy-duddy here!" James gaped, but before he could retort, Donald whistled and rolled away, leaving James speechless. Douglas, meanwhile, was working with Duck to shunt a long goods train.

"How are you enjoying yourself so far?" Duck asked.

"Och, I like it fine here, and I'm sure Donnie does too. It's peaceful."

"That's good, but if you run into Gordon, Henry or James, it might not be that way for long. Take my tip; watch yourself around them. They're sure to try some nonsense. Trust me, I know from experience." To Duck's surprise, Douglas chuckled.

"Dinnae fash yerself, lad. We'll soon settle them." Duck watched curiously as Douglas pushed a long line of trucks away.

* * *

As Donald and Douglas went about their work, the other engines were intrigued by them too, though the big engines were the exception.

"They have such deep-toned whistles," Gordon mused, "that if I didn't know any better, I'd mistake them for buses!"

"Or ships," chimed in Henry. Gordon began to laugh.

"Tugboat Annie!" Henry joined in, but James was still grumpy from his encounter with Donald earlier.

"They shunt too. What kind of tender engine shunts? It's disgusting," he grumbled, though Gordon and Henry were too busy laughing to notice. They also didn't notice Donald and Douglas slowly rolling beside them, one on each side.

"Ye wouldn't be making fun of us, would ye now?" Donald asked severely. All three engines jumped, and Gordon and Henry stopped laughing at once.

"N-No, certainly not," stammered Gordon.

"Us? Make fun of you? N-Never," added Henry hastily. The twins glared expectantly at James, who looked at his buffers in silence.

"That's fine. Now just mind the three of ye, and keep it that way," Douglas finished ominously. With that, Donald and Douglas rolled away, back to work. Gordon and Henry shared a stunned glance.

* * *

Later, Donald was to take a goods train to the other end of the line, while Douglas was to stay in the yard with Duck.

"Do ye think he knows?" Douglas wondered anxiously to Donald at the water column, "And that's why he wants me here? T-To call me out?"

"Nae, I think ye're overthinking it, Dougie. I'm sure ye'll get yer turn next. Why don't ye help Duck over there?" Donald suggested, "Poor lad looks exhausted, and it might calm yer nerves." Douglas glanced at Duck, who was shunting together Donald's trucks.

"Aye, ye might be right." Douglas whistled and rolled over to Duck.

"Do you need some help, laddie?" he asked. Duck sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness you're here. Would you mind fetching Edward's coaches from the station, Douglas?"

"Aye, nae bother." Douglas reversed to the station to collect the coaches, but he was still worried.

"I hope the Fat Controller doesn't find out I shouldn't be here… I can't go back, I can't… I'll just have to do as good a job as I can." Douglas rolled into the station, buffering up to Edward's coaches. As he was coupled up, he heard a loud snore. He gasped as at the platform next to his were two dozing coaches, the same color as Edward's.

"Why are they over there? Nae matter, I'll just shunt them away with the others." As quietly and gently as he could, he arranged the coaches so the sleeping coaches were on the tail end. He then pulled them back to the yard, leaving both platforms vacant.

* * *

Douglas shunted all of the coaches into a siding in the yard, and then left to wait behind Donald at the water tower. Just as he rolled up behind his twin, there was a shrill whistle. Donald and Douglas were surprised to see a red-in-the-face blue tank engine storming up to them.

"Where's my coaches?" he demanded crossly. Donald raised an eyebrow.

"Coaches? What coaches?"

"Annie and Clarabel, my coaches! They're not at the station!"

"Well, dinnae blame us, we've never seen them before! Right, Dougie?" Douglas, realizing something, was beginning to get nervous but tried his best to hold his composure.

"Of course, Donnie. Never seen 'em."

"Botheration! That Duck must've done it!" Thomas fumed, "Some 'Great Western Way' he has!" Thomas hurried away, leaving the twins at the water tower. As soon as he was out of earshot, Douglas groaned.

"Och na, those two coaches I saw must've been that engine's! I'm in for it now…"

"Nae ye're not," Donald replied firmly, "That laddie thinks Duck did it, we'll be fine."

"But Duck didnae!" protested Douglas, "He shouldn't get in trouble for my mistake."

"Listen, Dougie, if ye own up, he might send ye away on tae spot, and I'm nae letting that happen, no matter what ye say. I'll take tae fall if I have to."

"What? Donnie-"

"Take my goods; ye're in nae state of mind to be confronted." Douglas looked conflicted, but Donald gasped as from the other side of the yard, he could hear Thomas and Duck arguing.

"SILENCE!" cut in the Fat Controller. Thomas and Duck fell into silence, glaring at each other. The Fat Controller put his hands on his hips.

"Now, I don't know what's going on here, but it's clear someone made an error."

"Well, it wasn't me," Duck insisted, "I didn't even go near the station! I was arranging Donald's trucks!" At the mention of Donald, the Fat Controller tapped his chin.

"Hmm… This matters requires immediate investigation. Come on, you two." The Fat Controller climbed aboard Thomas' cab, and the two engines began moving towards where Donald and Douglas were.

"Go now," Donald barked at Douglas, "Do as I say!" Douglas gulped, but hurried away towards the siding. Donald grimaced as just as Douglas was out of sight, Thomas and Duck rolled in. The Fat Controller hopped down from Thomas' cab, caught off guard.

"Donald? What are you doing here? Where's Douglas?"

"Dougie took my train, sir. I have a wee pain in my boiler, ye see." The Fat Controller raised an eyebrow.

"I see. What was he doing before he took over for you?"

"Nae nothing out of the ordinary, sir," Donald replied vaguely. Thomas and Duck shared a glance.

"Donald, I did send Douglas to take Edward's coaches back here," Duck said gently, "Perhaps he-"

"Dougie would never!" Donald cut in angrily, before stopping as the Fat Controller held up his hand.

"That's enough, we've argued enough as it is. Thomas, Duck, you two look in the siding with Edward's coaches and see if you can find Annie and Clarabel."

"Yes, sir," said Duck obediently and reversed away. Thomas grunted and reluctantly followed. Donald noticed the Fat Controller's shoulders twitch, and he wiped his eyes. Donald wondered if he was crying. He wasn't. The Fat Controller swung around suddenly, pointing a stern finger at Donald.

"It's become clear that both you and Douglas can't be trusted. I don't know what you two were thinking, but I will put an end to this nonsense, one way or another." Donald gaped and became even more horrified as in the distance, he heard Thomas shout.

"_Annie and Clarabel!_"

* * *

**Author's Note: **I wasn't expecting to do another adaptation so soon, but I read about possible alternatives the original story, one of them being Douglas stowing away Annie and Clarabel instead of just a new coach (credit to TheBuriedTruck for that idea). I loved the idea and it got implemented into this. Aside from that, there's not a lot of changes to the story itself, more just my own style being applied to it, which I'm quite happy with. Its place in the timeline is the same as the original, which I think is a first for these adaptations. I wanted to show Douglas as more evidently nervous since he's the one that has the most to lose, and Donald trying to protect him but his temper getting in the way. I've heard people say that Donald and Douglas aren't the most interesting of characters, but I personally disagree; the two have a lot to work with, both on their own and with others, it's just a matter of tapping into it. Enough of me rambling, though; the next story should be the Christmas story, hopefully. Let's hope it makes it out on time this year!


End file.
